


Matched Set

by orphan_account



Category: The Dragon Prince (Cartoon)
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Ezran is literally the world's sweetest brother, F/M, Harrow is dead :c, Rayllum, Soulmate AU, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Titles are hard, Two Shot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-04
Updated: 2019-03-04
Packaged: 2019-11-09 08:28:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17998394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Humans are born into this world devoid of magic, unable to reach any arcane powers without the use of other magical beings.But humans are mocked, as they have only one small sliver of magic granted to them, and they are unable to make any great use of it--perhaps a greater curse than anything.A simple band of black marking their wrists that only fades away upon meeting one's Soulmate.





	Matched Set

**Author's Note:**

> I posted some headcanons about this sort of AU on Tumblr, but I'm finally ready to share the first half of the story!  
> I hope ya like the way I've portrayed everyone, just note they're all aged up about 8-10 years!
> 
> If you want to see more HeadCanons, follow me on Tumblr at moon-towers.tumblr.com !
> 
> Hoping to get part two up within a week. See you then!

Callum watched the idle dance of citizens mulling about the town square, flitting from one vendor to the next to complete their Saturday shopping. Some strode hand in hand, others with hoods drawn and baskets held close, trying to get their shopping done as quickly as possible.

In only a breath, the entire crowd hushed and stilled.

The world is full of magic, sourced from six primal elements; the sun, the moon, the stars, the sea, the earth, and the sky. Countless beings are born under an arcanum, linking them to their very own primal source.

But not humans.

Humans are born into this world devoid of magic, unable to reach these arcane powers without the use of other magical beings. 

But humans are mocked, as they have only one small sliver of magic granted to them, and they are unable to make any great use of it--perhaps a greater curse than anything.

A cry of joy filled the square, light applause following the sound.

Callum watched two glittering ribbons flutter through the crowd, dissipating into the air as though they never existed in the first place.

A frown crossed Callum’s face, and he looked down upon his own wrist, where an inch thick tattoo-like band encircled his wrist. He’d just seen it happen. The single moment of magic in a human’s life when the cincture they are born with falls away into a shimmering strip of magic. 

The moment they meet their soulmate.

Callum pulled on his sleeve, pressing it past his own wrist to push the thoughts from his mind as he continued his own Saturday errands.

Some people found their soulmate in their youth, others seemed to go on forever, wearing a tangible reminder of their loneliness in this life. 

It seemed as though everyone Callum had grown up with was suddenly surpassing him, finding a partner to face the future with. His future was already tumultuous, the oldest of two princes with no throne to claim.

The day passed him by, and Callum found himself laying in his chamber, staring out his window, thoughts racing endlessly through his mind. His gaze roved the city as the sun waned across the horizon. Stars beginning to wink into existence in the ever darkening sky.

He was to act as a hand to the King--to Ezran. Callum wondered if he would end up like Lord Viren, his late step-father’s adviser, alone following an empty marriage, the black circlet endlessly reminding him that he was an incomplete half.

A commitment to his king could mean turning his back on his soulmate, it was a struggle he grappled with nearly daily. There wasn’t even a guarantee his soulmate resided within the walls of Katolis, it was not fair to leave his brother alone upon his ascension to the throne. But was it not equally cruel to leave his soulmate alone, wondering why they were unfit for any other person in this world?

Even if Callum did travel outside of Katolis, he wasn’t fit for adventure. He skipped out on any trainings he could growing up, and now that Ezran’s taken the throne Callum has found himself dedicating most of his time to political affairs anyway.

Say he left the city and did find his soulmate, would they be willing to upend their own life to relocate to Katolis? There were no guarantees about anything. No discernable reason as to how the soulmates are decided, only that they are seemingly infallible--if you can find your matched set.

Dragging the heels of his palms across his eyes, Callum snuffed out the candles lighting his room after prepping for sleep. He hoped that his thoughts would silence long enough for him to find a restful night’s sleep before an early morning meeting just after dawn tomorrow.

Eventually, sleep found him, but it still wasn’t as restful as he’d hoped.

❇❇❇❇

The meeting was dull, there was a tenuous peace between the humans and elves, as there had been no aggression shown from either side in recent months. Most meetings consisted of trade talks and further peace options.

Callum did all he could to look interested, but was struggling to truly listen to the conversation being had.

“Would you be up for that, Callum?” Ezran had turned to face him from the end of the table. “I just think that a face to face interaction would be more beneficial than simply sending a message via crow.”

Apparently the embarrassment at having been caught not listening was plain on Callum’s face, since Ezran let out a raucous belly laugh at his brother’s expense. He wiped at a faux tear for added effect.

“Queen Aanya of Duren is a very powerful ally, but if we don’t send a formal entourage to her now and then she feels taken for granted,” Ezran explained, pushing around the remnants of his jelly tart with the tip of his finger. “I don’t want her to think we don’t value her, her people, or the bounty of her land, plus it might be nice to enjoy the spring air for a couple days of travel, don’t you think?”

Callum raised an eyebrow, sending the King’s adviser seemed a bit over the top, but queen Aanya could still hold a chip on her shoulder over the lack of respect she was given as a child queen. 

“Of course, when would we be setting out to Duren?” Callum still knew there was more to this decision than a simple escort and message to Duren and back, but Ezran betrayed no additional information.

His brother only sent him a smile, regarding the high council once again, “I’ve already asked Captain Soren to gather a small group and the necessary supplies for the trip yesterday evening, he said he will have his men ready to head out just after noon.” 

The sun filtered through the room, a light fog laid atop the city, not quite dissipated by the warm rays yet. It was perhaps four hours to noon, Callum would need to prepare as soon as possible, making a mental note to pick up a few Katolian specialties to thank Duren for their continued support.

The meeting adjourned, and after the high council left, Ezran rose, stretching his arms far above his head and released a content sigh.

“I wish I could clear my schedule and go with you, things may be peaceful, but our people still have wishes to be heard--and answered!” Ezran joined Callum in his spot next to the window, taking in the sounds of the morning as the citizens of the city started their day. 

Callum shifted his gaze to steal a peak at his younger brother, taking in how much he’d grown up. How much he reminded him of Harrow--and of Mom. Neither of them ever took for granted how lucky they were to have the other. 

Weight pressed up against Callum’s chest when his gaze dropped lower to look at Ezran’s unmarked wrists. Often mistaken for already having found his soulmate, Ezran was born without the mark. No magic in his life telling him that there was a matching piece to complete his set. And perhaps he didn’t need, or want one. Ezran crossed his arms, but gave no sign either way if he’d noticed Callum’s stare.

“I wish you could go too, Ez. We should make plans to visit the Winter Cabin soon--it would probably be good to get away for awhile.” 

He loosed a scoff, “Callum it’s hardly Spring and you want to make plans to go to the Winter Cabin?” Ezran readjusted the crown which he’d jostled with the action, the sister towers resting against his temple.

“I meant,” Callum shouldered Ezran, “we could go sometime soon for a getaway, since no one would think to look for us there.”

A thoughtful look settled on Ezran’s face before he schooled it into mocking composure. “Well Sir Callum, I’ll have to consider this offer. I do hope you’ll give me time to mull it over while you’re off gallivanting to Duren?” Ezran raised a brow to Callum.

Both tried to retain their composure, waiting for the other to crack. Laughter bubbled past both their lips, Callum stood straight and tall and spoke with dripping sarcasm, “I eagerly await your response, your highness.”

Tight arms wound around Callum, and he quickly returned the gesture. “Now go get ready, so you can come back soon!” Ezran pulled away from the hug, lightly shoving his brother to the door. “Love you!”

Warmth blossomed in Callum’s chest, “Love you too, Ez. I’ll be back soon with word from Queen Aanya.” With that, Callum disappeared down the halls with a mental list in mind on what he needed to pick up before they left.

❇❇❇❇

The weather was fair. The sun stays out longer than in the winter, warming the Earth around them, but isn’t quite as scorching as the long cloudless days of summer. Callum appreciated each of the seasons, though, taking in the scents of the blooming trees as the sun arced across the sky.

Hoofbeats droned in his ears, the five man retinue moving ever further from the towering city of Katolis, a hazy figure in the distance now.

Soren pulled the reins of his horse, leading it to Callum’s side. “So what do you say to a sparring match tonight, for old time’s sake?” The blond man had grown even wider than he was in their youth, as expected of a captain of the Kingsguard. “Bet you haven’t practiced a lick since the last time I owned your butt.” 

He was right, of course. Callum didn’t even know where to go to find sparring materials even if he wanted to. Not to mention how slight his frame was--especially compared to Soren. “As tempting as it is, I think I’ll pass. Plus I’m already sore from just a few hours of horseback riding, I should probably just rest so I’m ready to go tomorrow.” 

The worst part is, it wasn’t untrue. Callum could feel the onset of soreness climbing his legs into his core. He didn’t inherit physical strength from his mother, of that he was certain. While growing up, no matter how hard or often he trained with Soren he never seemed to find improvement, so he gradually gave up on the practice until he stopped showing up at all. 

For what he lacked in strength Callum made up for with a creative mind and deft hands, but he wasn’t sure if it was a one-to-one trade off all the time. Art came naturally to Callum, just as swordsmanship had to Soren. Art wasn’t useful in the court of the King, though; Soren had a place, a protector of the king. Callum was the King’s own brother and had little to offer him other than his own opinions on how to proceed in day-to-day political matters.

He was no court magician like Lord Viren had been, as Claudia was now. Everyone around him seemed to find a place for themselves in Katolis, but Callum had not. He had no bearing on where he was in life, where he would end up--and who with, if anyone. 

Callum swallowed the bitterness he felt, keeping his gaze straight ahead so not to let his eyes wander at whom amongst them had found their soulmate while he still struggled to stay afloat himself. 

He passed the rest of the day’s ride like that, staring endlessly upon the path forward, offering conversation to no one, only breaking from his stupor when Soren called to make camp for the night. 

The last warmth of the sun was dipping beneath the horizon, letting way to the cool tones of night and chirping of crickets.

Callum dismounted the chestnut mare, allowing one of the knights to tie her to a makeshift post before offering her water and food alongside the other four thoroughbreds. 

The night camp was buzzing with activity, feeding the horses, prepping for dinner, starting a fire, laying out cots. Each man was too busy to hear the quick but quiet steps approaching them until a group of six hood-clad rouges had already snuck into the camp, weapons drawn.

“Would ya look, these lads are havin’ a party and didn’t even invite us!” The voice was heavily accented but distinctly female. “Now we don’t want to cause trouble, but we’re bein’ led to believe you all might have something we need.”

She removed her hood from her face, revealing long moon-white hair topped with a set of pointed horns--Moonshadow elves. 

In a flash the four knights had drawn their broadswords, ready to battle, and ask questions later. Callum moved to scramble toward the men but was stopped dead by a hand clasping his scarf, pulling him roughly to his feet.

“Now, now, we might be assassins but that don’t mean we want to go ahead and kill the lot of ya. Just need some collateral to be sure ya won’t try anything funny.” 

She readjusted her grip, pressing the blade of her knife against the column of Callum’s throat. Not hard enough to draw blood, but certainly a firm warning.

Callum let out a yelp, cutting his eyes to Soren, bringing his hands up to make a feeble attempt at dislodging his assailant. Instead of holding his gaze, Soren’s eyes went wide.

“Just tell us where--” The elf woman’s voice caught in her throat as a faint light caught Callum’s own eyes.

He managed to peek downward, watching the matching pair of bands upon his and the elf’s wrist shift into something akin to starlight before they faded away. 

One of the elf men murmured softly, “Rayla, the soulmate bond…”

Ice ran through Callum’s veins at the elf’s next words. “This don’t change nothin’. If you think I won’t lop his head off you’re dead wrong.” She nodded to the male and female flanking her, “Just give us that sweet little gift basket and we’ll be out of your hair boys. We’ll take this one with us though, just to make sure ya don’t go off trying to act brave.”

Soren searched for words, but settled upon, “All this trouble for a basket of baked goods? Must be tough times on the other side of the divide then.” Callum watched the gears turn inside Soren’s warrior mind, looking for a way to get Callum back, and perhaps capture a few of the elves as well. “We don’t care about the basket, we’ll give it to you on the condition of having our man’s release.”

“No dice, I’m afraid.” She offered the Katolians a sweet smile, “But we ought to be goin’, since we’ve got what we need, aye?” One of the elves struck, but only jumped across the clearing--he’d taken the gift basket meant for Duren before Soren could hardly spin around.

Another member of the elven party stepped forward, chanting beneath her breath before shapeless shadowy creatures whisped into existence, gurgling growling masses. “We’ll leave you with these big boys for now, they’ll keep a good eye on yas so you don’t go off actin’ stupid.”

She jerked Callum backward, beginning to pull him further and further away from Soren and the knights around him, surrounded by three hulking beasts made of moonlight and shadows.

“Just listen to them Callum! We’ll get word to the King as soon as possible,” Soren’s voice was tight. “We’re not going to leave you with them!”

Callum’s mind was reeling--trying to process the events which had just unfolded before him. The knife still hard against him. The magical circle of black tattoo having come undone upon contact with her--with a Moonshadow elf.

And his potential murderer.


End file.
